Airport Stories
by mayprincess
Summary: *spoilery, very spoilery*   But the title pretty much explains it.
1. He had promised Alessandra

**If you are not a spoiler-whore like I am, you may want to stop reading.**

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**You've been sufficiently warned. So...there are bunches of photos of Blair fleeing her wedding/wedding reception. There are some slightly unconfirmed sources saying that Blair and Dan share a scene at JFK. The thoughts have been swirly in my mind, and I've decided to fill my GG-less hiatus with random and poorly written scenarios about what _could_ happen. **

**Don't expect them to be well-planned.**

**Or realistic.**

**Or at all connected to one another. My only rule is that Dan and Blair have to go to JFK in their wedding outfits (which is kind of ridiculous but par for the course for this show).**

**Oh, and feedback is awesome, so feel free to leave some if you have a moment.**

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_He had promised Alessandra._

He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late. A promise she didn't trust. He couldn't blame her. Skip out on your own book tour and the editor has the right to lose faith in your word.

She had texted him twice during the wedding. Called right after the coverage online. He tried to assuage her - resting on the fact that being in a royal wedding party might help his sales. Help her build her reputation at the publishing house.

She asked if Clair was Blair because that really would boost their sales. He avoided the question.

Leaving the reception had been easy. He slipped out virtually unnoticed, still decked out in a full tuxedo. He didn't say goodbye to his father. Rufus already knew he had to leave for California to discuss his rebrokered movie deal. He didn't say goodbye to Serena, mostly because he didn't even think to. The only person who stopped him was Eleanor. She hugged him, uncharacteristically so, and whispered, "Thank you" in his ear.

He wasn't sure why he deserved a 'thank you'. All he did was show up, stand still while his heart broke into tiny diamond-sized pieces that now draped carelessly around Blair's neck and finger, and then leave before the cake.

He arrived at JFK on time, but he didn't stop to change out of his tux. He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late, and he intended on keeping his word. When he settled down in the terminal, he finally took a breath. He felt the weight of day crush him as the air exited his lungs.

Blair had been beautiful. Perfection barely adequate as a description. When she strolled down the pink-laced aisle, his breath had caught in his throat in a way that betrayed his bridal party role. He memorized her blossomed-stained lips as she said, "I do," - secretly hoping that those simple words would kill a feeling.

They couldn't.

He was still stranded with his feelings for her. They made for lonely acquaintances.

He texted Alessandra back. _In __the __terminal. __I __won't __let __you __down. _He heard his plane's boarding number called, and he shifted towards to line. He thought, maybe California would help him move on. Sun and fun and tan people could serve as a distraction. Maybe he would find inspiration in the form of leggy blonde. You know, regress a little to a simpler time. Before books and coffee and midnight pizza. Before Chloe strappy heels finding a home under his couch. Before _her_ happiness was paramount, and he would sacrifice any pride he had in order to give it to her.

And, maybe her blossom-stained "I do" wouldn't haunt him in a new time zone.

"Humphrey."

And now he was hearing things.

"Humphrey." The tone had become kind of shrill and urgent and distinctively Blair. A little breathless too.

"Blair?" He stepped out of line.

"You didn't say goodbye," she said. Her chest was rising and lowering at an unusually quick pace, and he wondered if she had been running. It was a ridiculous thought as he watched her pool her long white train around her feet. Who could run in Vera Wang?

"You're in a wedding dress." Smoother words could have been found, but they weren't.

She smiled. Maybe the first real smile he has seen grace her lips all day. "You're a master of observation."

"Last boarding call," blasted over the speaker.

He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late, and he was starting to feel bad because he was about to break his word.

"Is that your flight?"

"Yes," he said looking back at the line slowly diminishing.

"You should probably board then."

He felt his brow bunch. Confusion contort his face. Had she come all this way here to tell him to board his plane? "But you're in a wedding dress," he stated simply.

She stared at him for a good thirty seconds and then said, "And I don't want you to be the kind of guy who misses out because he's waiting on a girl."

He tilted his head. Studied her face and her still blossom-stained lips. Caught a glimpse of her ringless finger. Her hand clutching something. "You want me to leave?" he questioned. "You do realize you're here in a wedding dress? Which implies you left your wedding. We can talk about it. I can get the next flight. It won't be a problem." Let the rambling begin, he thought.

"Fine," she said, moving towards the boarding gates. "I guess I'll leave without you."

"What is going on?" he demanded. The frustration of the day, the last several months really, crying out across the almost bare room.

She laughed and then displayed a rectangular piece of paper. "I'm going to California. You better board before I come to my senses and change my mind."

Dan grabbed his bag. He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late. And he was about to keep his word.


	2. JFK  And step on it

_"JFK. And step on it."_

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Two nights before Blair Waldorf's wedding, she read Dan Humphrey's book. Approaching the big day, she had been plagued with insomnia and thought perhaps Humphrey's heavy-handed prose would lull her into slumber.

She stayed up until the last page. Then, with her fingers rolling over the stiff corners of the novel, she went back to reread a section.

_Clair Carlyle was everything he had hated about the Upper East Side distilled into one 95-pound package of girly-evil, but he couldn't look away. Her Medusa-strength glare called to him. Her strength and power intoxicating. The softness underneath paradoxical. He wouldn't mind being a statue if it meant he could be close to her._

She wondered how long he had felt that way. How she hadn't noticed. She wondered if ignoring it would be the best option. She was going to be a princess in two days.

She talked to Serena the next day. "Do you think it wise to keep Dan in the wedding party?"

"Did Louis find another relative to take the spot?"

"No. I just don't know," she began, halted, then continued, "if he'll look appropriate in the pictures. Have you seen his hair?"

"Ask him to cut it," Serena responded, looking partially annoyed. "He'll do it."

"I think he likes his grungy muppet hair," she responded.

"That doesn't mean he won't cut it for you." And with that, the blonde abruptly left.

The next day, she was hyperventilating in her bride's room. Her mother clucked around in circles claiming that this was normal. This wasn't normal. Serena ventured out to find a drink. Possibly two. Harold stepped out for a moment. When he came back, Dan was in tow.

"What is he doing here, Harold?" Eleanor's eyes practically popped out of her manicured lids - the visitor clearly ruffling her.

"I think he'll help." He slapped Dan on the back and shuffled Eleanor out the door.

"Hey." It was all he said, and she could breathe again.

"Your father said you needed to calm down." He sat down beside her.

"Then why did he get you? I think I'm going to have a panic attack over your hair's assault on my wedding photographs."

He laughed. Warm. Bubbling to the surface. She felt her strength regaining.

He grabbed her hand and unlike before, she didn't pull away. Relying on Dan Humphrey's strength had become a habit since her accident. And Chuck. And her baby. A tear started to roll down her cheek. "You don't have to marry him," he said, the laughter leaving his eyes.

"I want to." It was a lie, but it felt right. Blair Waldorf wanted to marry a prince.

"I just want you to be happy, Blair."

And he did. She could tell.

She got married under the eyes of God. She tried not to scan the groomsmen when the priest spoke of unselfish love. When Louis placed a ring on her finger, she looked into his eyes and settled for her fate.

Louis was good man. He loved her.

The mantra played in her head as the reception began.

They danced. Mr. and Mrs. Louis Grimaldi. Prince and Princess. And she wondered how someone who wrote _Insider_ could stand there and watch her marry without calling out or objecting.

They met with the royal family. And she wondered how someone who was by her side for the last month was nowhere to be seen.

She pulled Serena into a corner. "Where's Dan?"

That annoyance crept back into the blonde's face. She sipped her champagne. "He left, Blair."

"Where?"

"I don't know. I think it was too tough for him."

She stared at her friend for a moment too long and then walked away.

Rufus was next. "Where's Dan?"

"You look beautiful, Blair." He was handsome and warm. Very much Humphrey's father.

"Where's Dan?"

"He left for a book tour. He didn't tell you, did he?" She looked crushed and Rufus saw it written across her face. "JFK. Terminal 2. Gate 20." He smiled in a knowing way. A Humphrey way.

She left before she could repeat her mantra once more. She didn't stop to think away the impulse. Racing into the night air, she opened the door to the limo outside.

"JFK. And step on it."

She didn't stop to think that this was crazy. She didn't stop to think that her "Just Married" decorations still clung to the back of the car. She just wanted to see him. She wanted to tell him that she read his book. That she couldn't have made it through the last month without him. That she didn't want to move to Monaco. That she wanted to watch Audrey next time. It didn't matter which one.

She raced through the airport, buying a ticket to anywhere that left near terminal 2.

But she didn't smile when she got there.

Gate 20 was empty.


	3. Mistakes

**This one is _heavily_ inspired by Rufly and Dan and Blair's first kiss. It's sorta cheesy, but we all like fluff, right? Let me know what you think.**

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_Mistakes_

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Going to Brooklyn the night before her wedding was perhaps her first mistake.

It's just that he had become a rock in her life. Someone who could help her decide what was best with no judgment. No agenda. And when she woke up the morning before her nuptials, she had expected little birds dressing her and fairy godmothers visiting her and joy to fill her heart.

Instead, all she felt was dread.

She had barged in. Demanded his full attention, and halfway between a wine-infused game of Scrabble, she realized just how handsome Humphrey was. His deep voice quoting Chaucer as he laid a simple four letter word down. "Time and _tide_ wait for no man. "

And the tide suddenly changed. She had been fighting it for some time. Distracting herself with wedding plans and past obsessions. This time tomorrow she would be married. But she couldn't help that the tide pulled her in, straight to the place she least expected. She leaned over the board and...

Kissing Dan Humphrey was perhaps her second mistake.

She pulled back so quickly, the board tumbled to the ground. Letters littered the floor. She picked one out of her shoe before slipping the pair on gracelessly as she tried to exit.

"Blair," he called simply as she rushed for the door.

"No," she shrugged off his words. "That didn't happen. It was the wine and my nerves."

"Blair," he stated again.

"No," she said again, this time with less force. He was standing now too. Coming closer.

"I know you're getting married tomorrow. I have the tux in my closet to prove it."

"Good. Then we're on the same page." She turned to leave but his voice stopped her.

"I just need to know," he said, his eyes dark in the evening's shadows, "for sure." He touched her shoulder, his hand leaving a trail of tingling skin as it grazed down her arm. Her chest grew heavy in expectation. The familiarity captivating.

"Just one kiss?" she asked turning to him, surprised she could make a controlled sound. Surprised even at what she said.

"Just one," he said, dipping his head towards her own.

Letting Dan Humphrey kiss her was perhaps her third mistake.

She woke up wrapped in tan sheets with no impressive thread count. His strong left arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Brooklyn air surrounding her. It was the first time in a long time she didn't feel suffocated.

She still thought about fleeing, but her body wouldn't move. He mumbled something into her hair and pulled her closer. She decided to sleep for just a little longer.

She awoke again to a cell phone. It was Dan's agent. He smiled at the news. A new book tour. Starting tomorrow.

"But you're supposed to be in my wedding."

It was the wrong thing to say. His shoulders dropped. His head went next. She took the moment to gather her clothes, fastidiously buttoning her dress. He lifted his head after a moment with an odd sort of smile on his face. "I guess we know now."

"What?" she asked, still occupied with her left stocking.

"We know what you want."

She left Brooklyn for what felt like the last time. She kept telling herself it wasn't a mistake. She was right - leaving Brooklyn wasn't the mistake. Leaving Dan was.

She sat in front of her mirror counting her breaths so she wouldn't run out. Louis was a good man. He had worked so hard for her forgiveness. Pampered her every whim. Comforted her the long numb nights when she realized their baby was gone. She wouldn't disgrace him.

She picked up her necklace and traced the diamond-lined curve with her finger.

"Need a hand with that?" she heard a voice from behind.

"What are you doing here? I thought we had royal security." She tried to steady her voice. Focus on the necklace.

"Blair," he smiled taking the jewelry from her small hands, "I'm in the wedding party."

He had a good point, so she turned around and lifted her hair off her shoulders. His knuckles grazed her skin and she tensed at her own reaction. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked, his voice so close to her skin as he finished fastening the clasp.

"I didn't say that." She turned to look him in the eye. She had so much to say. About last night. About the last month. About the last year. She wanted to thank him for being there. For always being there even before they meant something to one another. She wanted to yell at him for not telling how he felt sooner. Or making a move before she felt locked into marrying her prince. She wanted to tell him that if he just tried to fight for her, he might just win.

But she didn't say any of it. She just turned back to her mirror, and he took the cue. Letting Dan Humphrey leave the room was definitely her fifth mistake.

She married Louis. She became the princess she always dreamed she would be. At the reception, they took the floor as man and wife. Louis held her close and whispered French sweet nothings into her hair, and she watched as Dan slipped out through the lobby. When the song was over, she kissed her husband on the cheek, said, "I'm so sorry," and ran for the door.

Eleanor stopped her briefly and between gritted teeth said, "Darling, you're making a mistake."

"Maybe," she said, finally feeling like herself.

She grabbed the white lace at her thighs, hiking her long skirt up as she ran from the grand steps. She poured out into the night, a vision in white and blushed cheeks. She saw Dan step into a cab and watched as it departed.

"Follow that cab!" It was so movie, she thought as she settled into her "Just Married" limo. It was so something they would call cliché and laugh about. She would blame him for his pedestrian choice. He would apologize even if the movie had been her selection.

They arrived at JFK. Minutes behind each other, and she rushed behind him. Her tiara was beginning to fall. Her dress was lilting when she called out his name.

He stopped, his body frozen in what looked like shock.

"It's customary to say goodbye to the bride before leaving a wedding," she said slightly out of breath but confident he could hear. He turned, his look indiscernible, so she continued. "You know. Kiss her on the cheek. Wish her good luck and happiness." He put down his bag and took a step in her direction. "I guess Brooklyn affords no manners."

"You're here," he said, his eyes wide, his mouth not sure what to do.

"I'm pretty sure it's a huge mistake," she said, her heart pounding against her chest.

He stepped closer and reaching for her hair, smoothed a piece. "Can I?" he asked, his hand poised at her diamond-encrusted crown. "It doesn't look right."

She nodded slightly, and he gently took it from her head. "There," he said, straightening the wayward locks. "You're beautiful."

They stood there. People around them gawking at the scene before them. Until Dan broke the silence. "What are you doing here, Blair?"

She opened her mouth once. Then twice. Then she smiled. "I just needed to know," she said, taking a last little step towards him, "who I wanted. For sure."

His mouth settled on a joyful curve. "Oh for crying out loud, Waldorf." He scooped her to him, his left arm possessively around her waist, and before she could think about the mistake she was about to make, his lips were on hers.

Perhaps her last mistake was not figuring out who she wanted earlier.


	4. Don't assume we're finished talking

_"Don't assume we're finished talking, Waldorf."_

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"I think a vacation might be just what you need." Serena's voice echoed around the corner as Blair approached her friends. "Clear your head. Help you move on." Her friend sounded hopeful. She knew that hopeful. It was the 'Dan's-on-my-radar-again' hopeful, and Blair slightly fought the urge to roll her eyes. Just last week, Queen Sophie had told her in private that princesses don't roll their eyes.

"That's what I was thinking," Dan's low voice said, and Blair decided to halt, intent on listening in - probably something else princesses abstained from, but she wasn't a princess just yet. "This semester is pretty much over save for the finals, and since all of my finals this year are papers, I could just email them to my professors."

"When did you think about leaving?"

"As soon as I can. I have to get through Blair's wedding first." He sighed. "You know, she had me pick up her dress today."

"She didn't."

Something about the Serena's derisive tone spurred her into movement. She finished walking around the corner of the steps, words flowing freely. "Of course, I did," Blair said, scrunching her nose when she saw her dress's garment bag on the couch. "You know I can't trust the help. It's really a compliment to you, Humphrey." She lifted the dress bag up and added, "Although, I might have to rescind the compliment if my dress needs to be steamed again after you creased it on the couch."

He half smiled and puffed a small amount of exasperation into the room. "You know, I was just telling Serena how much I missed your Queen B Constance days. I just never thought that I would be one of your minions."

"Never say I'm not a princess of the people. Even Brooklyn people." The corners of her mouth rose into a triumphant grin when he began to shake his head at her.

"The more things change Blair, the more they stay the same." She was put off by the sadness in his tone. He grabbed his bag off the floor and moved towards the elevator. "Let me know if you need your errand boy again. I'll be holed up in Brooklyn until tomorrow."

"What was that about?" Blair turned to Serena after watching him depart the penthouse.

"Really, Blair?" Serena scoffed.

"Really."

Serena narrowed her eyes for a moment, then, "You really don't see it, do you? I thought you were just ignoring it so everything would run more smoothly, but you really don't see it."

Confused, Blair responded, "I don't even know what you're talking about."

Serena grabbed her coat, looking as though she was intent on leaving as well. "His version of you in his novel was glowing, Blair," she began, moving towards the elevator, with Blair in tow. "He's been waiting on you, hand and foot. He's been there for you through the miscarriage and Chuck and your ridiculous royal wedding demands. He practically let you move into his loft just because you asked him to."

"So," Blair said. "Somehow Dan and I have become good friends. I'm sure weirder things have happened."

"Blair, tomorrow you're getting married, and all Dan wants to do is leave the city because he's sad." Serena pressed the button on the wall. "You're really not making the connection here?"

"He's leaving because he's sad?" Blair ran through a list of possibilities. Maybe there was another failed attempt at a Derena relationship, but she was sure she would have heard about that. Maybe the movie deal for his book fell through for a second time. Maybe he needed a break from his current bout of writer's block. But Serena wouldn't be angry at her for any of those. "I don't understand..." but the words trailed off as she suddenly realized Serena's implication. "He's not..." _into __me? __That __wouldn't __be __possible. __Couldn't __be __possible._ "Why would he?" She couldn't even finish the question properly, "_Why __would __he __like __me?"_ for fear that it would be make it true.

The elevator dinged, and Serena stepped in. "To be honest, B, I don't get it either."

"But he tried to get Chuck and me back together." Failed attempt, but he did try. Blair's eyes were now searching the floor. Going though the catalogue of ways he had helped her, been there for her, been her shoulder to cry on, her ear to talk to.

"He just wants you to be happy, Blair. Didn't you tell me just last year that he was one of the good ones?"

The elevator closed, and Blair was left with nothing but her thoughts.

That night she dreamt about her wedding. The glittery cameras as the world took notice. The rustle of her white lace Vera Wang. The diamond tiara adorning her perfectly coiffed hair. Penelope's look of jealousy as she walked down the aisle. The priest repeating vows. But every time she was expected to say "I do", her words clung to her throat.

She woke up sweating, and instead of trying to force her way back into slumber and the questions that her dream dredged up, she decided to just stay awake. She watched _Breakfast __at __Tiffany's_ and couldn't help but draw the comparison between Paul's honesty and Dan's role in her life. She watched _The __Philadelphia __Story_ and wondered how the story would be different if it had been set in modern times - far outside the societal need for a divorced couple to reunite to prove the validity of marriage. As the sun was rising, she finished watching _Roman __Holiday_ and wondered what could have happened if Princess Ann would have made the choice that led to happiness and not requirement.

She spent the day in a haze. Her family chalked it up to nerves, but really it was because she was seeing everything in a new light. Dan stopped by her bridal suite to wish her happiness. He told her she looked beautiful, and she almost left right there. But she didn't. She felt tied to this fate. And a small part of her didn't feel good enough to be with such a good man.

At her reception, she danced with her husband. Then her father. Then her other father. And her other, other father. She smiled and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres. She made small talk with dignitaries from the around the world. She played her part to perfection until she saw Dan check his phone, give his father a hug, and leave.

She walked with purpose towards the door. She bumped into her mother and mumbled something about 'being right back' and 'telling Louis not to worry'. Without grabbing her coat, she burst into the November cold. New York air, brisk and clear, rushed into her lungs. She watched Dan hop into a cab, and before she could think the impulse away, she ran to her limo. She didn't think about the banquet-hall-full of people she just abandoned or what that meant for her future. All she wanted was to see him and talk to him and say...She wasn't quite sure exactly, but she wanted the moment.

She popped out of her limo a minute after him, and pulling at her long train, raced in through the automatic doors of JFK. People stopped to stare as she looked both ways until she narrowed in on his messy mop-top of hair. She ran towards him.

"Dan," she called out. "Dan, don't go."

He stopped for a moment, his back to her. His head tilted slightly, then he began moving forward again. Farther and farther away from her.

"Humphrey!" The tone was shrill and undeniably Blair. He turned around this time.

An audience of casual observers looked on at the odd scene. Blair, a modern-day princess bride. Dan, still tuxedo-clad and looking extremely confused. "Dan," she repeated, "don't go."

"Blair, what are you doing here?"

She didn't know how to answer that.

He took a step towards her and asked again, "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." The words floated out in one breath.

He let out a small breath too. "What?" he asked, moving closer to her again with one step. Two.

"We have to talk before you leave."

He stopped moving closer to her. "Blair, I'm not-"

She cut him off, afraid that standing here any longer would make her lose the nerve to say what she needed to say. "I just recently came into some information that changes how I see things, and I needed a friend to talk to." No, she needed to amend that. "I needed you to talk to."

For a moment, the air between them was palpable, charged with more than just question marks. The causal audience around them even stood with baited breath.

Until Dan broke the silence. "Blair, I'm not leaving."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she sighed, relieved they had more time to talk.

"No. That's not what I meant," he said, shaking his head. "I was never leaving."

"But yesterday, you told Serena you needed to leave."

He chuckled a little. "I not going anywhere for at least another week. I still have classes."

Blair looked around for a moment, finally absorbing how ridiculous the situation truly was. "Then, what...are you doing here?" she asked slowly.

"Me?" he asked, taking another step to her, almost an arm's length away. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I just..." The words died on arrival. She searched his face but all she saw was confusion mirrored back. She finally settled on, "I never got to say thank you."

A moment later, "You came to the airport in your wedding dress to say thank you." There was small glint his eye, as if he knew her real motivation, as if he knew she was almost willing to chuck her new husband for a chance to talk to him. The glint was growing in light as the possibilities began to bounce in his mind, and suddenly she was irritated by the situation. What was he even doing here in the first place?

"Yes. I did," she stamped the words out in defiance. "What are _you_ doing here?"

As if on cue, a small blonde wearing ten different shades of black rolled towards them with two bags of luggage. "Dan!" she called out, but then slowly recoiled when she saw who he was with.

Dan pointed to the blonde. "I'm picking up my sister," he said, as Jenny slowly approached the pair. "Jenny just got home for the holidays and texted me at the wedding."

Someone in the causal audience stifled a snort of laughter.

Blair's lips formed an embarrassed, "Oh."

"Dan, what is she doing here?" Jenny asked. Dan stayed quiet.

After a moment, "I was offering him a ride," Blair said, rather unconvincingly.

"In your wedding dress?" Jenny asked, rather unbelievingly.

"The last time we talked Jenny, you were banned from my city," Blair said, rising to the disdainful tone she was accustomed to sending the little Humphrey's way. "Be grateful I'm allowing you past the doors of the airport."

Jenny rolled her eyes and started rolling her luggage towards the door.

As Dan and Blair began walking too, he leaned near her ear. "Don't assume we're finished talking, Waldorf."

She shrugged him off, trying to ignore the halt in her breath as his words caressed her skin. "It's Grimaldi, now," she said somewhat bitterly.

They both winced a bit at her comeback as they entered the November cold. New York air, brisk and clear, rushed into their lungs, and they entered the limo in what was sure to be the most awkward car ride ever.

**Author's Note: This was inspired by JackElizabeth's comment in the review section. (Not exactly what you wrote, but thank you for the idea!) Also, it's too bad we know Jenny's not coming back. This is kind of my favorite scenario so far, because it would leave Dan knowing how important he was to Blair but Louis would still be none the wiser. Thus - interesting tension in the storyline to come. (Louis would be none the wiser because I'm certain Eleanor Waldorf could spin a yarn to get her daughter out of any negative consequences for leaving her own wedding.) Oh well. By the way, thanks for the reviews. I get so excited when I see a story review, and clearly, the reviews inspire me! **


	5. What ifs

_What-Ifs_

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>O<br>Scotch and Chanel #5 weren't usually an alluring combination, but watching Blair in the cab that night, it had a certain charm. Her eyes were hooded, no longer drunk so much as they were sleepy, and she kept looking at him like he was her hero. She'd smile and look away, and he'd remind himself that gentlemen didn't take advantage of such situations.

The night hadn't started out in such a peculiar situation. He was at Chuck's content with playing catch with Monkey when Serena texted him. They arrived in time to see the cop gently shove Blair into the police car. Chuck tried to sweet talk the officer. Then, his tactics devolved into bribery. Dan stepped in before Chuck was whisked away too.

"Look man, she just lost a baby. She's going through something right now. Can't you give her a break?"

The officer looked sympathetic. He wrote something on his notepad and handed it to Dan. "This is a warning. Make sure it doesn't happen again." He went to retrieve Blair, but as they approached Dan, Blair pulled the cop's hat off complaining about 'his overwhelming abundance of clothes for a stripper'. The officer grimaced, passing the small brunette off to Dan. "You may want to get her out of Manhattan before I change my mind."

Dan took it as his cue to escape to Brooklyn. When he got to the loft, he had to practically carry her inside. He flopped her on his bed and went in search of some water. When he got back to the room, she had snuggled herself under the comforter. Cedric somehow nestled in her arms. Her head popping out slightly, and he grinned to himself. Blair Waldorf could pull off a lot of things even drunk and disorderly.

He handed her the water, and she swatted it away. "I don't want it," she said, pulling him onto the bed beside her.

He put the drink down on the night stand and said, "Well, it's here. Whether you want it or not, you'll need it." He sat there for a moment watching her fight sleep. He moved his hand to smooth down some hair but stopped midair. It didn't seem appropriate, and he decided to leave.

When he was almost out of the room, he heard her voice. Light and airy, half asleep but clear. "Dan, do you think if we had met at NYU, we could have ended up differently?"

He paused. "What?" It was a odd question. Maybe he had misheard it.

"You know, what if there was no Serena," she asked, sitting up a little from her location on the bed. "What if we had met with a blank slate? Tabula rasa, so to speak."

He walked back to the bed. "Tabula rasa?" he asked. "You do realize we went to the same high school. That's not exactly zero experience with one another."

"But I didn't know you in high school before Serena."

Dan snorted. "But I knew you."

Blair groaned, sinking back into the bed. "And I was that horrible, wasn't I?" she concluded dramatically by shoving the blanket over her head.

Dan sat down beside her, peeling the cover a bit. "You weren't _that_ horrible."

"Yes," she said, shaking her head vigorously, and then looking very much like she regretted that action. "Yes, I was. Me and my headbands of power. It was ridiculous."

"No," Dan started, then added, "I mean, maybe." He laughed as she groaned again. "I didn't hate you though. Not even in high school."

"Sure," she said, her eyes rolling significantly.

"It's hard not to appreciate intelligence Blair, and now that I know there is some compassion in there too..." he trailed off because she was looking at him again. The same look as in the cab. Like he was her hero. "Well, it's a pretty lethal combination."

"Do you think if we had met at NYU, we could have ended up differently?"

The question had been in the ether for a while now, and he still didn't know how to respond. "We're friends, Blair. How we got here is irrelevant."

"If Serena weren't around, I think I may of liked you."

"What?" he asked. It was more a choke of shock than a genuine question.

But she fielded it. "You're so smart. And you know the difference between Monet and Manet and Godard and Truffaut. And even though I'll deny it tomorrow, you make an impressive date at any dinner party with your conversational skills."

"We like a lot of the same things, but I don't think that means anything, Blair." It was easier if she would just stop. After all, this was a woman who was getting married in three days.

"It's not just that," she said, sitting up again. "I feel safe with you. I haven't felt safe with someone..." she searched for a moment, "ever really. Not even Serena."

"What about Louis?"

"What about him?" she asked sadly.

"You always say he's a good man."

"He is. He wants to marry me even after Chuck and the baby." He watched a small tear well up in her eye. "He'll make a good husband."

The conversation left Dan a swirl of emotions, but he chalked it up to the scotch and a rough night. "He will," he said, and wiping away the tear, he leaned over to hug her.

She pulled him closer, her lips almost grazing his neck. "You smell nice too," she whispered.

He tucked her in, reminded her about the water, and left the room. The next morning, the sheets were firmly fitted to the bed, Cedric lay on the pillows, and a note took Blair's place. _Thank you. A princess getting arrested would have been hell to explain to the newspapers. -B._

The wedding arrived, commenced, and ended without fail. From the outside, it was a fairytale ending to a fairytale story. So when Dan saw Blair run out into the night during the reception, he was confused and promptly followed. She looked around the street, hailing the first cab she saw. It came to a screeching halt, and she tried her best to fit her twenty yards of lace into the back seat.

He hopped into the other side. "Humphrey, get out!" Blair shrieked.

He studied her face, then said, "No, I don't think I'm going to do that."

They sat for a moment, an awkward standstill that ended with the driver's question, "Ma'am, are we going to the airport?"

Without taking her eyes off of Dan, she said, "Yes."

The car moved forward in silence. When they arrived, Dan paid the fare while Blair hopped out and raced into the airport. He rolled his eyes when he noticed she was already one hundred feet in front of him. "Blair," he called out, but she didn't stop.

When he finally caught up with her, she was sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair. Her dress sandwiched between the arm rests. She looked up at him, her tiara crooked, her face flushed, and he couldn't be mad. He sat beside her and quietly grasped her hand.

"I've always wanted the fairytale, but what do you do when you get it and you don't want it anymore?" Her tone was dripping with sadness and regret.

"Is that why you left?" he asked, squeezing her hand gently.

"I don't love Louis," she stated simply, staring ahead at no one. "I kept thinking that I should stop the wedding, but then it was too late and the wedding had started. And then I thought that I could just not say 'I do' but I couldn't do that to him. In front of his family and the world." Her words flowed freely, pouring out of her as if they could no longer be contained. "At the reception, my heart was pounding and everyone was calling me Mrs. Grimaldi and I panicked. I couldn't breathe, so I stepped outside for air." She looked over at Dan. "And then I just had to run away."

He sighed, letting go of her hand. "You can't run away from this, Blair. I know you want to, but it will only make it worse."

"Worse?" she said accusingly. "I've lost my baby. I've lost Chuck. I'm losing Louis. I've got nothing left. What could make it worse?"

"You still have me, Blair."

She laughed a little, wiping a tear from her eye. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

He laughed too and hugged her. When they pulled apart, she said, "You're right. I need to go back." She groaned as she stood up and said, "I think I need a drink."

She reached for his hand and he pulled himself up. "Oh," he started as they headed for the exit, "getting drunk. That solves everything." Then he grinned, "Although, at least the last time you weren't singing 'Stand By Your Man'."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I just assaulted an officer on the streets trying to get him to strip for me."

"It's a slight improvement, I guess. Your singing was horrible in that video."

She swatted him on the arm. "Whatever, it's not like you can sing."

They exited the airport into the cold winter night. He wasn't quite sure where they were headed, and every once in a while, he noticed that she kept looking at him with that same glint in her eye - like he was her hero.

It began to make him wonder too.

There was beginning to be so many "what if's" when it came to Blair Waldorf.


	6. Surprises

_Surprises_

_x_

_o_

_x_

_o_

'It isn't considered snooping when it's in the person's best interest.' Rule 14 in Blair Waldorf's Scheming Policies and Regulations. The long list of logical (but not entirely reasonable) generalizations that she (half-heartedly) codified as a young up and coming Constance Queen had been a double-edged sword in the past, and as she logged into Louis's computer to try to get a better picture of what was going on in his mind, she worried Rule 14 might just cut her deeply.

And she didn't want to be cut. The past month - the baby, Chuck, hospitals, and death always looming - had been too much for her. She wanted something good. Something real. Something pure and simple. She wanted a reason to feel for Louis what she had convinced herself to feel for him this past summer. She wanted the only worries in her life to center around floral arrangements and seating charts. But as the day drew closer, her doubts seem to multiply.

They used to say the eyes were the window to the soul, but Blair knew better than that. Every twenty-something today knew that your soul was digitally stored somewhere between your documents folder, email account, and social networking ring. Louis's royal lack of a personal twitter account made the equation easier for Blair.

When she saw the word "Vows" in his documents, she knew she shouldn't open it. She had spent the whole morning letting her mother convince her that she really should marry Louis. "It's what's best." "It's what you always dreamed about." "It's the social event of the season." ("It's finally not Charles Bass.") The last one Eleanor Waldorf never uttered, but Blair could see it in her mother's eyes. Blair knew she shouldn't click on the file. In the fragile state she was in, if that file didn't contain poetry that somehow tapped into her soul, she might just call the whole thing off right there.

But then she reminded herself of her mission. 'It wasn't considered snooping if it was in Louis's best interest.' She had logged on to find an email or file or something that made her think that her fairytale would work out, and what better way to look into Louis's digital soul than through his typed out vows?

When she was finished reading, she wiped a lone tear that meandered its way down her cheek and she felt her breath return slowly. She hadn't even realized she was holding it, bated breath at such genuine words, as if the small sound of her shallow air would scare away their beauty. It wasn't poetry, but the elegant and heart-felt prose enveloped her heart and what she felt was good and real. Pure and simple.

When she dressed for her wedding in dazzling Vera Wang white, she was certain. People walked in and out of her bridal suite telling her she was stunning, beautiful. That her ceremony was going to be gorgeous. One for the ages. When one more head popped in, she almost groaned until she recognized the messy brown curls.

He stepped in hesitantly, and she greeted him with her usual blunt discourse. "Your hair is hideous. If I hired someone to come cut it right now, would you do that for me? I'm the bride, and I really don't want your lack of style ruining my photographs."

He inched in towards her. "It's my secret way of rebelling."

"Rebelling?" she asked, turning from her white satin bench in front of the mirror. "Rebelling against whom?"

"The dictator of taste, of course." They both smiled, and for the first time all day, Blair finally felt relaxed.

"Why don't you sit down?" she said, offering a seat on her bench.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I just wanted to stop by and ask you something."

"We don't have all day, Humphrey," she said, but her exaggerated tone carried no sense of urgency.

He took a deep breath and one step closer. "Are you happy, Blair?"

She smiled, and rising her shoulders to show poise as she responded, she said, "Of course I am." But she turned before he could get a good look at her face. Staring in the mirror, she saw his reflection. "Maybe both of us can get our fairytale ending," she added halfheartedly.

"Yeah, well, I did hear Charlotte Casiraghi was on the guest list and thanks for remembering to invite her, but to be completely honest, I don't think she's the princess I've been waiting for." There was a sadness in his voice that Blair couldn't explain.

She turned to look at him. "She's not blond enough for you, is she?" she asked him slowly, figuring she had nailed the reason for his solemn tone.

"You know Serena and I, we were just faking. We were never really dating. That relationship is over."

"Please. You and Serena have never been good actors. What you have will never be over." She twirled around to fuss with her jewelry, not really certain why she didn't want him to see her face.

He stepped closer to her, moving her hair to the side for her as she tried to clasp a diamond necklace around her neck. "This really isn't why I came," he said, shooing her hand away so he could finish her work. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you," he said, finishing with the necklace and moving her hair back over her shoulders. Stepping away, he added, "I know saying this past year has been tough would be an understatement, but I'm glad it's ending on a high note for you."

She stood as he started to walk out. "Dan." He turned around. "Thank you," she continued, pulling him in for a hug. "Even with that hair, you've been a rock for me. I won't forget that."

His eyes clouded over, fairly unreadable, and he nodded his head as he ducked out.

When she walked down the aisle with her fathers, she looked at her future husband with all the hope in the world. When time came for vows, she braced herself for a teary, make-up mess that would only endear her to the people. "From the moment I saw you admiring the beauty of Manet..." His words were sweet and kind and everything she expected from Louis, but as the syllables formed together, word after word, she began to realize that his words, here in this church, on what was supposed to be her special day, his words weren't the vows she had read on his laptop. They weren't the words that had convinced her that Louis knew her. Every part of her. They didn't speak to her heart. They didn't speak to her soul.

She hid her confusion the best she knew how. She smiled. She said her well-practiced vows. She said 'I do' and placed a ring on his finger. She kissed him chastely, the way Princess Sophie had recommended. And she was left to wonder what had happened to his beautiful words.

Minutes later, as people were funneling out of the church, happily set on the reception's location, she stood with her best friend waiting for the photographer to finish the Grimaldi family shots. Half because she wanted to take her mind off of the vows, and half because Serena looked more distant than Blair felt herself, she approached her maid of honor and said, "You're going to have to fake a better smile than that for the pictures."

Serena grabbed Blair's hands, and guiding them to a bench to sit down, said, "Oh Blair, the ceremony was beautiful. Stop worrying about the pictures. Everything will be perfect."

"Are you alright?" Blair asked, feeling odd about Serena's distracted tone.

"Me? Yeah," Serena said, scooting closer to the bride. "Watching you today, I'm just starting to realize that you were right last year."

"I'm always right," Blair said, trying for a smile from her friend. It worked. A little. "Remind me - what was I right about this time?"

"Our romantic fate shouldn't be sealed in high school," the blonde said sadly.

"Is this about -" she was going to say _Dan_ but her friend cut her off.

"No, this is about you and how happy you are," Serena said, too forcefully and rather unbelievably. "Who would have thought in high school that you would actually marry a prince?"

"Um," Blair said lightheartedly, "let me see." She pretended to count on her fingers. "Everyone." Both laughed a bit. "But seriously S, is this about Dan? Because if he hurt you, I will personally go find him out in the reception hall and ruin his day just for you."

Serena shook her hair, some wayward blonde strands swaying in denial. "He's gone, Blair."

"What?" Blair felt her breath catch in her throat. She tried to tell herself that it was sadness for her best friend and not worry for herself she felt creeping into her soul. _What would she do without Dan?_ she silently pondered.

"He left," Serena finally confirmed. "He said he needed to get out of New York for a little bit. It was all too much for him."

"For just a little bit though, right?" Serena shook her head in affirmation. "It was all too much for him?" Blair repeated, almost mockingly. "What? Being around you? That boy has seen too many Sirk melodramas for his own good."

Serena reached for her best friend's hand and squeezed it gently. "You really don't see it, do you?" Blair stared back at her blankly. "He's moved on Blair, and I think it's time for me to move on as well."

The photographer came into the room to call on Blair and her family for the next set of pictures. When she glanced over at her friend, she was amazed at how such a sad girl could look so beautiful.

The reception began. Prince and Princess Grimaldi were introduced with all the pomp and circumstance befitting royalty. They danced and ate. And while Louis entertained some state business, an unwelcomed guest commandeered Blair's time.

"I'm ashamed of you, B. Everything today has been so..." she drew her words out as she picked up an hors d'oeuvre, "predictable."

Blair grimaced. "Georgina, " she said addressing the pest, "I'd say long time no see, but really it wasn't long enough."

Georgina chortled. "I'll be out of your way soon enough. Have you seen Dan?"

"Dan? Why do you want to see Dan?" Really, at times, Georgina was the most random person, Blair thought.

"I'm bored," she said, and with her heavily lined eyes rolling in his direction, continued, "my hubby is otherwise occupied, and," moving her eyes back to Blair in a suggestive manner, "Daniel has always provided me with enjoyable distractions."

"Eww." Blair had the faint need to throw a glove at Georgina for the insinuation. She started to move away from the menacing brunette. "He's not even here. He left the city."

"Dan left?" Georgina looked somewhat alarmed. Most likely because she lost the mouse she was to play with. "Why did he leave?"

"I don't know. Maybe he saw the hideous thing you had on your head earlier and went running for the hills."

Georgina snickered again. "Like your Princess Kate hats have been any better. And trust me, we all know who the better princess is."

Through gritted teeth, Blair smiled and said, "Remember that I now have royal security that can kick you out."

Georgina sighed. "I'll go find someone new to pester." But before she could move on, she asked, "Seriously though, why did Dan leave?"

Before she could edit herself, the words slipped out. "The same old Serena/Dan drama."

"Oh. They must be fighting over you."

"Excuse me?" Blair asked incredulously.

"He's probably sitting somewhere, waiting for a plane, train, or car, sobbing quietly to Mumford & Sons," Georgina said mostly to herself.

"Is Jesus back at the wheel because right now you sound like crazy Georgina."

"Don't you see it, Blair?" Georgina asked, looking directly at the bride. "The way he looks at you." Blair stood dumbfounded. Confused. So Georgina continued. "The way he looked at you though the whole ceremony. It was a little disrespectful if you ask me."

Blair shook her head. "Did that hat pin puncture your brain? What are you talking about?"

"You don't live with a man for months as he takes care of you then your baby without taking note of a few things." Georgina popped another spinach croissant in her mouth. "Remember how Dan's face would change when he spoke of Serena. He'd get that sad-puppy, mopey, she-put-the-moon-in-the-sky-so-we-could-all-bask-in-her-shimering-beauty look."

Blair nodded, "Yes."

"Sickening, wasn't it?"

"A little," Blair had to agree.

"Well, that's how he looked at you today."

They stood quiet for a moment. Two queens, headstrong and bucking. "You're ridiculous," Blair finally said.

"And you're blind," Georgina said casually. " I expect more from you, B." She began to walk away. "Ignorance bores me. I'm moving onto something shiny." And Blair watched her unwelcomed visitor move towards Nate's direction, as Blair's husband descended upon Blair and scooped her into his arms.

"Dance with me?" he asked, looking stately and handsome.

"Of course," she said, strolling onto the dance floor and welcoming the distraction from Georgina's mad implication.

"Is today everything you dreamed it would be," he whispered into her ear.

"Yes," but there was a hint of hesitation in her voice.

"What is it, love?" he asked, pulling back to study her face.

She didn't want to say, but in the spirit of an open and honest start to her marriage, she relented. "Your vows," she began guiltily. "I may have stumbled upon them on your computer." He smiled at her mischievous nature. "The ones today..." she trailed, "they were different. What made your change them?"

"Oh," he began, squeezing the hand that held pressed to his chest. "Well, I had some help from someone for that version, but then I realized that you would want my vows to come from my heart, not a ghost writer's pen."

_Oh,_ she thought, her heart sinking at the revelation. "Ghost writer?" she asked. Who could write those words? Who knew her that well? Knew what to say to reach so deeply into her heart and know its rhythm? Who knew the words to leave her speechless? Knew exactly what to do to make her happy?

"I guess I shouldn't have tried to compete with a professional writer." _Professional writer. _Louis's words cut into her thoughts and left her with only one.

The day played over and over in her mind, a mill of confusion dancing in the pit of her stomach. _"To be completely honest, I don't think she's the princess I've been waiting for." And the sadness in his voice. "It was all too much for him." Then, "You really don't see it, do you? He's moved on Blair." And the sadness in Serena's eyes. "Don't you see it Blair? The way he looks at you. The way he looked at you though the whole ceremony." Georgina has said with the detached distain of a royal herself. "It was a little disrespectful if you ask me. You don't live with a man for months as he takes care of you then your baby without taking note of a few things. He'd get that sad-puppy, mopey, she-put-the-moon-in-the-sky-so-we-could-all-bask-in-her-shimering-beauty look. Well, that's how he looked at you today."_

Had she really been blind? This whole time. He had been there for her. Never asking for anything. He had brought Chuck to her because he thought it would make her happy. He was her rock after she lost her baby. Of course he would write Louis's vows. She had told Dan she needed a happy ending, and armed with his big heart and big talent, he had tried to write one for her.

"Dan." It was a whisper. Barely a sound really. But when she voiced the three simple letters, one simple syllable, she felt the controlled restraint she had been cultivating as a future royal go numb and her impulse take over.

"It was Dan, wasn't it?" she demanded softly from her husband.

"He wanted to help make today perfect," Louis responded, perfectly ignorant of the monumental realization that had just shaken the woman in his arms. "He really is an amazing friend."

The song ended fatefully, and she pulled away. "Louis, I have to," she searched her catalogue of lies, 'open and honest start to her marriage' flying out the vaulted ceilings of the reception hall, "speak to my mother. It's such a big day, and I haven't had a chance to see her yet."

"Of course darling," he said, kissing her forehead. "It's your day. You can do whatever your heart desires."

She went racing off, wondering when he would regret those words. She bumped into Lily and Rufus. They cornered her, telling her how beautiful she looked, and she realized that she could use this to her advantage.

"What happened to Dan?"

Rufus eyed her with suspicion. "He left for a second book tour."

"Really?" Blair questioned the man with the kind eyes. Kind eyes so much like his son's.

He tilted his head, studying her expression and smiling just a hint, said, "That's the story if asked. He's leaving from JFK tonight. Terminal 2. Gate 20."

She nodded her head, leaving quickly.

She vaguely remembered hearing Lily's confused, "What was that, Rufus?" and her husband's "We'll have to wait and see" response.

The air outside was cold, and it jolted her into reality. _What was she doing_, she asked herself. _Leaving a fairytale, leaving a prince, for what?_ The world hit her like a gale of wind. _Happiness_. It was all she had wanted for so long. To be happy. To be loved. A good love. Real love. Pure and simple.

She just never thought Dan Humphrey would be the one.

She stared down the street, searching for a taxi, afraid that she was too late. She was married. Of course he would give up on her now. She saw her wedding escort. Regal and old-world. Beautiful "Just Married" font scrawled on the back. No tacky decorations or cans, as per her direction. She raced for it, sliding into the back, her yards of lace not daring to protest. "JFK, and step on it!"

As they weaved through the streets of Manhattan, she ran through the what-ifs. What if his plane had already left? What if she was making a ridiculous leap? What if she had noticed sooner? What if she was right - what would happen with Serena? And part of her desperately wished to know what would have happened if she had noticed Dan before Serena. What if she had stamped him as hers so long ago? Would college have been different? Would life had been different?

She had made so many mistakes along the way. She had let her pride and ignorance get in the way. She had been crippled by her obsession with Chuck. Making his happiness paramount at the cost of her own. She'd sought out the fairytale, the movie ending, when reality had been so much more welcoming. And through it all, he had always been there - even before he was her friend - to comfort her when she felt neglected and Serena-scorched, to advise her into believing in love's risk and reward, to remind her that she deserved happiness, to belief in her own strength when her whole world was falling apart.

He had once said that ignoring signs made you a coward, and she had foolishly looked straight through the Brooklyn Bridge's strong beams and settled on the Empire State Building's showy height.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

She raced into the airport, scanning the board for Gate 2, Terminal 20. The friendly people of New York pushed aside so she could buy a boarding pass, and when she finally saw him, standing still with a bag and ear phones in his ears, she took a deep breath and summoned all the courage he had been convincing her this year she had. She tugged at the earphones, and he swung around in alarm.

The alarm quickly knotted into confusion.

"It's pretty amazing how quickly they'll let you through security when you're wearing a wedding dress." She paused. She didn't know what else to say.

"Blair," he said, the shock and awe palpable. "What are you doing here?"

"The better question is what are you doing here?" she challenged. She figured standing in the middle of an airport wearing a Vera Wang original made it fairly obvious what she was doing. He was one that she needed an explanation from.

"I promised Alessandra, my editor, I would actually go on a book tour."

"Really?" she asked. She had been convinced that was just an excuse, but what if she had been mistaken? "That's why you're here?"

He shook his head yes, and she felt her shoulders drop. She was convinced that he had fled her wedding because he loved her too much to watch her commit herself to another man, but maybe she was wrong.

While she was deep in thought, verging on embarrassment, he stepped close enough to run his hand under her chin. He prompted her to look up and said, "Don't assume we're finished talking, Waldorf."

The charge in his eyes gave her confidence. "That's not the only reason you're leaving New York," she said. "Tell me why you left my wedding."

"You tell me why you left your wedding."

"I left because..." It had never been easy for Blair Waldorf to jump. Taking the first leap was even harder. When a person feels so weak yet has so much pride, it's usually just easier to hide behind sharp wit and unexpressed desire.

"Because why?" he urged.

"Because..." She looked down, glimpsing her white wedding dress and glimmering diamond ring. She was standing in an airport with a gaggle of people watching. Someone was probably recording, and she was still hung up on possible embarrassment. She looked back up. Kind eyes, searching, searching for something, staring back at her. And that's when she realized he was just as afraid as she was. Only, she was the one in the wedding dress. She was the one who just married another man and professed her love for yet another man to Dan on several occasions. With her checkered past, she had to take the lead on this one.

"I left because I read your vows." He blushed just a little, and it gave her the strength to continue. "I read them a week ago, and they're the reason I got married today. I thought," she began, still searching for words, "I knew that whoever wrote those words knew me and loved me. Real love. Someone who I could be happy with. And then," she said, looking straight into his eyes, "when I found out it was you, it all made sense."

"What made sense?" he asked, more in a daze.

"Why I felt that way." She felt her voice catch. "You were the only one I could trust this year when I found out I was pregnant. You were the only one I knew who would help me confront it. You were the only one I could turn to when my world was falling apart. It all made sense because you're the only one who knows me like that. The real me, and you love me anyway."

"Yeah, I do," he said. She knew it, but him saying it shook her to her core. His voice was low and shaky as well, and the nervous energy in the room sustained the onlookers' silence. He continued, "The only question now is how you feel."

"Well," she began slowly, "I am here in my wedding dress. I think plausible deniability has flown out the window."

He broke out in a subtle grin and slowly pushed the hair off of her right shoulder. She felt that same buzz she had felt a year before in her foyer, her insides practically humming against her skin. "I guess we could go with the precedent," she said, almost inaudibly.

"And that would be?" he asked, his words measured but lingering.

"Just one kiss, then you'll know without a doubt."

"That didn't work last time."

"True, but I think it will this time."

She couldn't tell who started it. It was slow at first. Hesitant. She felt his hand cup the line of her jaw. Pull her in. And then it wasn't slow anymore. And she thought she heard clapping around her.

Blair Waldorf never thought that a group of strangers in a large room would circle around her and applaud as her lips made contact with a man's, but she also never thought she'd feel this way about Dan Humphrey.

The world was full of surprises.

**AN: This is a long one and (I know) towards the end, a little fluffy. If you made it through, I award you with my appreciation! (Lucky you!) This is probably not what will actually happen, but this is fanfiction - a place where we can _make_ Dair dreams come true. Let me know what you think. Feedback is a fanfic writer's heartbeat. Without it, we die.**


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